She's a Dove
by Lenina Crowne
Summary: [LL] Lorelai’s a dove, he decides – a beautiful, pure white dove with a curled neck and long, curved wings. While, on the outside, she looks regal and beautiful, on the inside, he knows she’s a whirlwind of color and movement.


_**She's a Dove**_

**Disclaimer: **_As if these characters are mine! _

**A/N: **_This is what happens when I try to write essays. There goes my History and English grades. / This is a **one-shot** (or stand-alone, whatever you call it) so there's no continuing, although I don't think I left much room for that anyhow. It's kind of weird, so I apologize if you don't like it. Thank you for reading and please leave a review; feedback and constructive criticism is certainly welcome._

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One of the last memories that Luke has of his mother before she had fallen ill is of her sitting outside on the white rocking chair on the porch of his childhood home. A large hard-back book sat open on her lap, hands lay clasped on top of the glossy pages, and her eyes looked toward the sky, squinting through the last rays of the summer sunlight. It isn't really surprising that Luke remembers this, since he has many memories of his mother in this position. She used to love to sit outside and watch the sky, although Luke had never found out why. However, the book on her lap had thousands of shiny pages full of birds of every shape, size, and color imaginable, so, once he was old enough, he began to assume that she was watching the sky for birds.

During this particular memory, six-year-old Luke had stepped out onto the porch, baseball glove in hand, when he noticed his mother sitting a few feet away. Normally, Luke would have just walked past her, but, this time, she seemed so peaceful that Luke couldn't help but stare up at her with curious eyes. He remembers how she looked even more beautiful than usual at that moment – golden rays of sunlight reflecting off of her brown hair, leaving it looking as glossy as the pages of the bird book on her lap. Without realizing it, Luke had inched his way toward his mother, the original game of catch he had planned on playing forgotten as he approached her.

She must have heard the creaking of the old porch under his feet, because she tore her eyes from the sky and looked down at her son, smiling broadly as she did so. Hesitating slightly, he approached her further, slightly wary of his mother in this unfamiliar state of complete calm. Yet, she took his small hand in hers and drew him to stand beside her in silence. Luke looked down at the book and allowed the fingers of his free hand to caress the cool, smooth pages, finally resting his fingers upon one bird in particular. He looked up at his mother curiously, questioning her with his eyes.

"That's a white dove," she told him, smiling down at the page as she, too, allowed her fingers to graze the surface of the paper. "It's one of my favorite breeds."

"Why?" he questioned, still staring at the bird in wonder.

"Why? Hmm… that's a good question. I don't know, exactly. Doves are a very different type of bird. They symbolize peace, you know, but they actually fight a lot with each other. Nobody knows that part though – but I think it's part of the appeal." Off Luke's confused look, she clarified, "They're different than they appear to be on the surface, different than what people assume them to be. Outside, they're eloquent and refined, but, on the inside, they're wild and brave and like to live on their own in the wild."

"Oh," Luke replied, his interest peaking. "Has anyone kept them as pets?"

His mother frowned, her lower lip protruding as she contemplated an answer. "Yes, I guess so. It's possible, but I think it would be hard. They don't like to be controlled."

"I like doves."

His mother grinned down at him, running a hand through his hair affectionately. "I'm glad to hear that. They're one of my favorite types of birds."

"Mine, too," Luke declared, hands on his hips.

She laughed heartily. "Well, it's nice to see we have something in common there, Luke." And then she smiled at him again, leaning forward to kiss his cheek softly, before hugging him tightly against her body. The two of them stayed this way for a few minutes, and Luke could have sworn he felt tears against his cheek. However, when his mother released him, Luke found no traces of tears. Instead, she placed her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Go! Play catch with your friends before it gets dark. Dinner will be ready when you get home."

Luke nodded, although he was still slightly suspicious. He bit his lower lip and watched his mother with a furrowed brow, until her eyes returned to the sky. Finally, deciding that everything was okay, he left, but not without the image of a hundred white doves flying around in his mind.

Luke remembers all of this now as he stares down at plane ticket in his hand. He has been gazing at this piece of paper so long that it has become blurry to him. Noticing this, he blinks rapidly, tearing his eyes from the ticket, before placing it securely under a coffee can behind the counter of his diner. He lets out a heavy sigh, trying to find something to busy himself with. He has already mopped the floors, disinfected the tables, and organized the coffee mugs on the shelves. He realizes that there isn't anything for him to do but wait. Resigning himself, he slumps over the counter and leans his head on his hands, hoping that Lorelai will arrive soon, before he loses his nerve.

Lorelai's a dove, he decides suddenly – a beautiful, pure white dove with a curled neck and long, curved wings. While, on the outside, she looks regal and beautiful, on the inside, he knows she's a whirlwind of color and movement. He's positive that that's part of the reason he's so drawn to her and also why he understands her so well. She's beautiful, she's witty, she's intelligent, but, most of all, she's untamable, and he loves that. The spark in her eyes symbolizes pure, unadulterated love of life. But she's in a cage now, backed up against the wall of conformity, and he knows that the spark is quickly fading. Her constant motion is evolving into flightiness. He knows because he's seen it happen to her before; he's watched her run away, both physically and emotionally, often without ever looking back. He knows he can't let this happen to her again; he can't let this happen to _them_. He has to open that cage door and let her stretch her wings.

Finally, the bells above the door jingle, snapping Luke out of his pensive reverie. He lifts his head expectantly and smiles slightly as Lorelai enters, hugging herself to keep warm in the cold, winter night. As she crosses the diner, she looks up at him and grins, before removing her coat and rubbing her hands together dramatically. He immediately hands her a cup of coffee that he has been keeping warm for her. Her eyes light up as she grabs the steaming mug from his hands and takes a grateful gulp. After she seems to gain feeling in her limbs again, she plops down onto one of the stools, leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips.

"Hey there, I'm sorry; I got your message earlier, but I just couldn't get away from the inn. I'm sorry I couldn't come over earlier."

"That's okay."

She pouts slightly, before taking another sip of her coffee, and then asks, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She nods. "All right, so… what's up?"

"Not much."

"Uh, you just… called me over to get a cup of coffee? I mean, hey, I'm totally not complaining here, but, well… I probably would've come over anyway. You didn't have to call."

"I know. I – okay, I guess something is up."

Lorelai looks at him strangely, placing her hand over his on the counter. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Don't worry."

"Okay…"

"I just wanted to give you something."

Lorelai raises her eyebrows. "No Luke, you've given me _more _than enough lately."

"It's okay; this is something you need."

"I don't need anything," she says with a half-smile. "I mean, have you looked in my closet lately?"

"I try to avoid that."

She chuckles. "Yeah. So," she asks, unable to hide her curiosity, "what'd you get me?"

He bends down behind the counter and lifts the coffee can, snatching the ticket off the shelf, before promptly holding it out to her in the palm of his hand. She furrows her brow and wrinkles her nose, before moving closer, studying the material in his hand intently. Finally, she cocks her head to the side, fixing him with a curious look.

"What's this?"

"A ticket."

"I see that. A ticket to _where_?"

"California."

"Oh? I thought our honeymoon was gonna be in Maine? You changed your mind?"

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "No, that's not it. There's only _one _ticket. One ticket… for you."

"For me?" she repeats, baffled.

"Yeah, one ticket for you, one-way. It's not that I don't want you to come back because, of course I do, but I don't know how long you're gonna need to stay, so I figured you could handle buying the ticket home again."

"Okay, sure. I'm leaving?"

"Yeah, you are."

"What? Luke, you're talking craz –"

"No, Lorelai, seriously. You're leaving. You're gonna fly to California _tonight _and you're gonna work out whatever's got you acting so weird and distant lately."

"What are you talking about?" she asks defensively.

"Lorelai, I know you. I know that you're getting anxious about the wedding, having second thoughts. I also know that you really want it to happen, but you also need your space. You need time away for me, from this town, from your parents, from everyone…"

"Luke –"

"Lorelai, I've watched you run away from commitment before. Hell, you've done it to me!"

"Luke…"

"But it's okay, because watching you has helped me learn something. You need to distance yourself in order to prepare yourself to deal with whatever crap's going on in your head. If I don't give you that space, you're just gonna take it on your own. I don't want you to take the space because I know you won't give it back."

"Oh, Luke…"

"Please Lorelai," he pleads in a strangled voice, "just take the ticket, pack your bags, and _go_."

"But what about the inn?" she asks meekly.

"Sookie and Michel have it covered."

"And Rory?"

"She's a big girl now. She's gonna graduate from college in a few months, Lorelai, she'll be fine."

Lorelai pauses, taking a deep breath, before she whispers, "And what about you?"

Luke licks his dry lips and forces himself to look into her eyes, despite the overwhelming desire to look anywhere else. "I'll live."

Luke knows that she's accepted his proposition, even though she has yet to voice it. He can tell by the look in her eyes – sad, but accepting, nonetheless. He knows her too well – knows that she feels exposed and drained, but is trying to pretend she's fine with the whole situation. He also knows that she's aware that he knows all of this, so she nods, backing away from Luke slowly, coffee mug still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Pack your bags and get the hell out of here quickly, before morning, so that none of the crazies hound you for details. Here," he walks swiftly out from behind the counter, handing her the ticket, "this is for you." He fixes her with a pointed look. "Don't lose that ticket. Call a cab and get them to take you to the airport, okay? Don't forget to bring your license as ID, and, for crying out loud, don't try to feed the drug-sniffing dogs, okay?"

Again, she nods, before asking, "You're not taking me to the airport?"

He shakes his head. "I'm afraid if I did that, I wouldn't be able to let you go."

"Oh," Lorelai bites her lip, fighting back tears.

Luke swallows hard, beginning to feel his own tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He doesn't want her to leave, but he also doesn't want to focus on that. Instead, he decides to close the gap between them, planting a soft, but reassuring kiss on her lips. Then, he pulls back slightly, allowing his thumb to softly caress her cheek, wiping away the fresh tears as they fall. He can tell that she wants to say something, but doesn't know how to form the words, so he hugs her close to him, allowing himself a moment to indulge in the smell of her shampoo filling his nostrils, before pulling back.

"You're a dove, Lorelai."

She pulls back further and looks at him oddly. "What?"

"You're a dove," he repeats, firmly. "A dove needs to be free."

"I don't know, I've always seen myself as more of a parrot," she says as she smiles, playing along, even though she doesn't understand the game. "I mean, they're bright, loud, and obnoxious. Oh and they live for a really long time, which I'm totally planning on doing."

"I feel bad for future generations," he grumbles.

She laughs at that and, a moment later, he laughs, too. It feels less awkward suddenly and he's almost disappointed at this. The comfort makes him want to hold onto her longer, although one look into her eyes tells him that he can't – not yet, anyhow.

"You should go."

She nods, the smile quickly fading from her lips. "Luke, I can't even begin to thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"This is really love then, isn't it?" He's puzzled by the slight surprise that's evident in her tone, so he just watches her curiously, waiting for her to continue. "I mean, I know they say that love is never having to say I'm sorry, but I really don't think that's true."

"No, it's not. Not with us, anyway." He forces himself to swallow. "Love is knowing when to let go."

"Yeah…" She sighs. "I'm sorry I'm so screwed up."

"I wouldn't have ya any other way."

She smiles again, this time blushing and looking down at her shoes. He places a hand on shoulder and promptly begins to steer her toward the door. "Come on, you need your time to pack."

"Yeah," she whispers. However, she stops right before she grabs the doorknob, turns around, and takes a deep breath before saying, "If I'm a dove… what does that make you?"

"I don't know."

She ponders this for a moment, biting her bottom lip as she does so. "Well, you're my mate," she decides firmly.

He raises his eyebrows. "So I'm a dove by default?"

"I don't think it's by default."

With that, she opens the door to the diner and disappears into the night, leaving him with her words and the image of a single, eloquent, yet colorful dove flying around in his mind. He desperately hopes that she finds her way back to him.


End file.
